


The Devil You Know

by TheFearsomeJabberwock



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout 4, Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Animal Death, Body Horror, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Baggage, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Everything is Beautiful and Everything Hurts, Everything is bigger then in game, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Mutual Pining, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Abuse, Recreational Drug Use, Slavery, Slow Burn, Slow Romance, Smut, Unreliable Narrator, headcanon heavy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:27:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26580646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFearsomeJabberwock/pseuds/TheFearsomeJabberwock
Summary: “Attention to all my favorite undesirables out there!” RedEye's obnoxious voice blared over the speaker system, likely transmitting to the entire park. “If you haven’t noticed, it looks like we got ourselves some FRESH MEAT to run the Gauntlet!”Colter had to die.And Gage had less than a week to make that happen.By all means, it shouldn’t have been fucking difficult. Just about anyone, even Harv with his face blown all to shit, woulda been a better boss than Colter. There was a catch though, there was always a catch. Whoever took over couldn’t be from one of the gangs. They had to be completely neutral, like Gage himself, or it would cause a full out gang war between the three factions that controlled the park. It would tear everything Gage had been working towards to shit, and he’d end up dead to boot.--A repost of an old fic, rewritten and refined.
Relationships: Female Courier/Porter Gage
Comments: 7
Kudos: 28





	1. Sabotage

The clatter of computer keys filled the cramped security office, the room was dim, illuminated only by the glow of a single computer screen. The light reflected back on a man with a metal eye-patch who clicked through menu after menu. He scowled as he scanned the list of cameras across the parks, and some that went far beyond the confines of Nuka-World. He pulled up two feeds, one to the tram that was rocketing towards the theme park, and the other that was located in the transit station. He had gotten the message that a new vic was on her way, having successfully been lured in by Harvey’s sob story. The man leaned back in his chair, ignoring its violent creaking protests. The first feed buffered, bringing up video of the dark tram. It cleared, slowly but surely, even as the second feed remained nothing but a spinning little circle. 

No matter, the tram had started to come into focus despite the low light. He manipulated the controls and spun the camera, searching for the vic. He found her at the end of the tram, or at least he was pretty sure it was her. He was going more off of shapes then anything else- she’d picked a fucking god awful time to fall into their trap. 

It was deep in the middle of the night, and the clouds had been gathering off over the mountains for a while. He had felt the radiation dancing across his skin for a few hours now, and it had gotten even worse as he scurried across the courtyard towards the Cola Cars Arena. It was going to be one helluva storm, and damn was he glad it wasn’t him on that rickety little tram swaying in the wind hundreds of feet off the ground. 

He squinted at his screen, trying to make out her kit in the darkness. Of course she was wearing black, or something equally dark. Life liked to shit in his dinner after all, and how was he supposed to prepare if he couldn’t see what kinda heat she was packing? At most, he could make out that she was tall, but that was because of how far she splayed out from her seat. She had long legs that damn near took up the whole middle aisle, and her long arms draped over the seats adjacent to her. He watched the movement as she rolled her neck before arching and reaching into her back pocket for something. His nose scrunched and he reached for his can of water, cracking the tab and taking a sip as he watched her fiddle with something small in her hands. 

A flash of light illuminated her face as she lit her cigarette. She had warm brown skin and pink hair, the curls tumbling down to her shoulders from a messy bun. He watched until the cig took, and then all the camera could see of her face was the little ember on the end of her smoke. He focused instead on the shapes around her, leaning forward in his chair as he got closer to the screen. The video was grainy, making it hard to make out what the shapes were. There was a big mass in the seat next to her… perhaps a bag of some sort? She also had two shapes that made him think of rifles, due to the sheer size of them. 

The stock announcer must have come on because she damn near came out of her skin, her head on a swivel as she located the source of whatever prewar bullshit the Nuka folks thought would make them the most money. 

The waster let out a dramatic huff, her shoulders sagging as she looked out the window and rested her chin on her forearm. 

The man looked over at the computer clock, mentally calculating roughly how much time he had until the tram docked at the theme park’s station. The man took a steadying breath and reached for his own pack of cigs, tapping one out. He put it to his mouth, lighting it with practiced ease.  
He took a long drag to steady his nerves. 

Show time.

He sucked in a breath as he reached for the microphone that was on the desk. His eye darted to the screen however, and he felt his guts twist up into knots as the words died in his throat. The tram station camera had finally loaded in, and while Harvey had obviously sent his beacon to let the raiders know a new vic was coming- it apparently that was the last thing he ever did. 

Harv was splayed out on the stairs that led up to the entrance to the Nuka-World transit center, or… most of him was, anyway. Before hopping on that tram, she had apparently ripped him limb from limb, disemboweled the poor bastard and apparently played in his insides and painted the walls with his blood. She’d blown the poor bastard’s face to shit, and if Gage hadn’t been the one to unlock Harv’s collar, he’d have thought the thing had gone off. 

A’ight. That told him exactly what kinda waster he was dealing with.

“Well, well, that wasn't very nice! Killing an innocent man like that.” he flipped the switch on and pulled the mic close as he spoke, his eyes watching the feed for her reaction. Any confidence he had managed to build up before speaking was gone as the tram passed by one of the trees that was littered with fire cages and corpses, courtesy of the Nuka-World gangs. It had lit the entire tram in a deep red light. She looked like some sort of demented hell cat staring at the camera the way she was, having come out of her seat with a pistol in hand. 

She looked like she was staring directly at him.

It sent anxiety skittering up his spine like bugs and made him squirm in his seat. He lost his train of thought for a second, but with a brisk shake of his head he was back in the moment.  
“You're one ruthless son-of-a-bitch, aren't you?” he asked, looking her over, “If caps and killing are your thing, I got the offer of a lifetime for you.”

God, if he didn’t know no better, he’d think her gaze was burning through him like the wrath of Satan himself. He shook that thought from his head and steeled himself. He had to get this done before the tram docked, before anyone else could get their hands on her. He took a drag on his cig, letting the smoke flow through his nose and calm his nerves. 

“The name is Gage, Porter Gage,” he drawled, trying to sound casual- conversational even. The vic’s little smirk twisted into a snarl and she began to talk and gesture wildly. She was sure sayin’ something into that empty car, a shame the tram didn’t have a microphone. The closer the tram got to the dock, the clearer the feed got. He followed her movements as silent words tumbled from her mouth, his eye locked on her face. 

“I only got a minute so you better listen and listen good.” Gage said, ignoring her more and more frantic and angry gesturing. “That guy Harvey you just offed was just a set up to draw you into our little death trap.” All he got out of her was a curl of the lip and several rude gestures. Ok, that's fine. “Make it through, and you’ll find riches n’ power beyond your wildest dreams. I wanna set you up for fuckin’ life.” Gage hummed and watched as she flipped the camera off aggressively. “Butcha gotta live to make good on this- so have fun and put on a good show. I'll be watching.” 

He flipped the switch on the microphone, turning it off. The internal lights flickered on in the tram as it pulled into the dock, illuminating the whole scene. It allowed Gage to see the vic and her gear far more clearly then before. He watched intently as she hauled up the two rifles from beside her seat. The first was a huge anti-materiel rifle, a .50 cal if he had to make a guess based on the sheer size of the thing. The second was a heavily modded chunky Gauss rifle, It had all sorts of gizmos and bits attached to the barrel and honestly Gage wouldn’t have been able to tell what it was if he hadn’t spotted the massive magnets that powered the damn thing. 

The vic reached under the seat to grab a massive green duffle bag, hauling out like it weighed nothing. Gage supposed she traveled light, which would be smart in the wasteland. The weird shape in the seat beside her was a powered down eyebot. It came to life as she gestured with her hand, rising from the seat with its lights blinking on flickering. It had scrap bolted to it’s chassis, license plates and grates and barbed wire all wrapped and tangled around it. Didn’t really make it look more dangerous in Gage’s opinion, but scavs will do what scavs will do. 

She jerked her head towards the doors after they had slid open. The bot followed her as she made her way to the exit, floating past her as she paused at the door. She looked back up at the camera, squinting slightly as she stared at it. 

She was wearing all black from head to toe, a black leather trench coat that went down past her knees and was tattered at the hem, black pants, black cowboy boots, the works. She had a metal chest plate on that was charred black, save across her chest in obnoxious red paint the words “FUCK YOU” and “SCAVVER” directly below that. The neck guard on her armor also had a design painted on it in that same obnoxious red, a single fist with the middle finger raised.

Classy.

Gage watched the screen curiously as she tilted her head, her lip pulling into that same feral snarl. It really felt like she could see him despite everything- Gage’s thoughts scattered as he recoiled violently. She had pulled a massive revolver from her coat and shot the camera. The feed had cut to static, but it didn’t stop his heart from trying to bust it's way past his ribs. He leaned back in his chair for a moment, in shocked silence. He took a breath before a nervous chuckle escaped him, which quickly turned into full on barks of laughter. He’d have to get that camera repaired later…

If he lived until later. 

That thought made his stomach twist so he shook it outta his head and went back to the camera menus displayed on the screen. He closed the feed from the tram and swapped to the first room of the gauntlet. She had swaggered in, looking over the tram platform with a look of disgust. She was chatting back and forth with her eyebot, sauntering over to the check in counter. She wouldn’t find anything there, the raiders had made sure of that. 

“Attention to all my favorite undesirables out there!” An obnoxious voice blared over the speaker system, likely transmitting to the entire park. “If you haven’t noticed, it looks like we got ourselves some FRESH MEAT to run the gauntlet!”

The voice, and following laughter, belonged to the raiders’ local radio jockey, Russel, or Redeye as he preferred to be called, who just loved to provide colorful commentary for the masses who didn’t have the privilege of a security feed or front row seats to watch the gauntlet live. Gage leaned on his hand, watching how the vic reacted to the taunting voice. Gage’s soured mood lifted somewhat as he watched her openly mock the poor bastard. She exchanged a glance with her eyebot and laughed some more, leaning on the thing as she made her way towards the first leg of the gauntlet. Once she got to the stairs Gage switched the feed to the next section. 

Russel was not as amused as Gage was, and spent his sweet time describing the victims that came before her in gruesome detail. Gage ignored it, letting out a little huff as his thoughts whisked him away once more. He needed her not to die like those chumps. Gage needed her to be good, smart, god be damned he needed her to be competent. She needed to not get maimed, or shot, or ripped to shit. He needed her to not be a fool, he couldn’t afford for her to be.  
The bosses had given him their ultimatum. 

Colter had to die. 

And Gage had less than a week to make that happen.  
By all means, it shouldn’t have been fucking difficult. Just about anyone, even Harv with his face blown all to shit, woulda been a better boss than Colter. There was a catch though, there was always a catch. Whoever took over couldn’t be from one of the gangs. They had to be completely neutral, like Gage himself, or it would cause a full out gang war between the three factions that controlled the park. It would tear everything Gage had been working towards to shit, and he’d end up dead to boot. 

Gage hated it. He hated every part of it. He was desperate and angry. He’d believed in Colter! He had busted his ass off for that fuckwit to secure treaties, gather up manpower, to direct raiders to rout shitty traders who didn’t know what the fuck they were sitting on. He had been burned by Forged, threatened by Tourettes, hell he had a gun put to his head by Talon to make this shit work. All Colter had to do was take the rest of the parks. He was sitting on a fucking goldmine, ripe and ready to bust. It should have taken a month or two, three at most. It would have been fucking great.

But what did Colter do? He sat on his ass, he played with his power armor, and he lazed about while Gage took all the heat from the bosses. 

And what thanks did Gage get?

He got a real nice black eye and a lovely fat lip to show off from Colter, along with some broken ribs. And, courtesy of the vicious bitch of a leader for the Disciples, a knife pulled from his belt to his collarbones- just hard enough to get the point across.

Nisha explained she was going to make him pay for the mistake of putting Colter up as Overboss. She had made it crystal clear she was going to torture him for as long as possible once he inevitably failed. She’d explained in great detail how she was going to draw it out, longer and longer, until he couldn’t handle it anymore. She was going to skin him alive, inch by inch, play skip rope with his intestines, she was going to take a spoon to his good eye-

Gage choked as his breath caught in his throat. He felt something warm and slick slide between his fingers. He looked down and tilted his head, his mouth pulling into a thin line. The sharp pain of the aluminum can he had been clutching cut into his palm, bringing him back to the present. He threw the now crushed can over his shoulder and reached for a rag that was on a red toolbox to his right. He wiped up the water from the desk and then idly put the dampened rag to his palm. It stung, but he ignored it. He tapped out a second cig, taking a breath before lighting it and letting the familiar routine pull him out of his thoughts. He didn’t want to think of his encounter with Nisha anymore. 

Her threats were not to be taken lightly. He had the stitches from their last encounter to prove it.  
When the feed loaded in he saw the vic systematically destroying turrets one by one until the room was clear. It was smart, but it was boring to watch. She took her damn sweet time going through the scrap, looking for anything that might be of value to scav. Russ was having a field day bitching at her over the intercom, but it wasn’t winning the DJ any favors. While Gage agreed with the DJ, her being all sensible and shit wasn’t fun to watch, it gave Gage just a sliver of hope.  
Russ however made a particularly rude comment about the vic taking her time, and Gage could see the switch flip inside her. She looked up at the cameras, keeping very uncomfortably strong eye contact. She pulled her bag off, unzipping it slowly. 

“No,” Russel gasped, “You wouldn’t!” 

Gage laughed quietly as the vic tilted her head, a wide smile pulling across her features. She overturned the bag, and the clatter must have been migraine inducing. So much for traveling light. The bag had been full of scrap she had collected, scrap she must have had before, and some supplies. The feed was too grainy for Gage to make out much, but he spotted the tell-tail glow of Nuka Quantum, the bright white case of a medkit, and a metallic pink baseball bat.  
His humor was short lived however- it took a solid fucking hour to put all the shit back, and every time Russ would complain she just moved slower and slower until at one point she was stock still for five minutes. Gage timed it. Five minutes. He both loved and hated it. Gage ‘Got’ petty, hell, he was a pretty petty bastard himself- but this was going to make it very hard to work with her. 

If she lived of course. 

Gage ended up dozing off in his seat as she worked her way through the different rooms and traps. He was so god damned exhausted that only Russ calling on the disciples shrill as a fucking rad crow pulled him outta sleep. Gage shot up from where his head was resting on the desk, bleary eyed and confused. He rubbed his face as he navigated the cameras to figure out where she was lingering. She’d made it through most of the gauntlet, unscathed, despite all odds. That was comforting Gage supposed. 

She was busy taking a knife to a wooden barrier the raiders had thrown up, carving some sort of message into the wooden wall. Gage glanced at the clock and rubbed his face. She’d been at it for over three hours. He’d never seen someone last longer then an hour- or even take that long to get to the Cola Cars Arena. He was pretty sure the rad storm outside was dying down now, not that it mattered too much, she was deep in the maintenance tunnels now. It woulda made the next leg of the gauntlet interesting, but no matter. 

He lit another cig and took a drag as Disciples crept in from the shadows, surrounding the vic. He leaned on his hand and shook his head, letting smoke flow from his nose. “Well shit, all that for nothing.” he grumbled, watching as the raiders surrounded her. She was going to die here, stabbed to death by Disciple lowlifes because she was too busy to pay attention.

At least, that was what Gage thought was going to happen.

He didn’t expect her to twist and kill two Disciples with a knife hidden in her boot, he didn’t expect her to throw it into the throat of a third either. She moved faster than he could track, moving from raider to raider and mowing them down faster than a fox in a hen house. Gage choked on the smoke in his lungs as she turned and whipped a third knife into the chest of the final Disciple. 

A smile stretched across his face as she collected her knives and cleaned them off on the rags that the other raiders wore, before sliding each one back into their respective holsters. She moved to the next section and Gage leaned back, trying to process what he had just seen.  
He took control of the camera, forcing it to zoom and focus on the note from the vic. He leaned forward, trying to read the scratchy letters. 

FUCK YOU RAIDER ASSHOLES  
\-- WITH LOVE, KINCAID

Kincaid. 

Gage quirked his brow and rolled the name around in his mouth. It was an interesting name, and a fussy one. He took another drag on his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a hum. He clicked to the next set of cameras as she worked on trip wires and bombs in the next rigged hallway.  
His eye narrowed as he tapped his thigh in thought. It was obvious this bitch was trained, but the real question was where? No regular scav could take down that many Disciples, much less without getting hit once. She was going through the traps far too easy too, which was both promising and concerning. She could have been an ex-Gunner perhaps, based on how she moved. No self taught waster moved with that kind of efficiency. Problem was she didn’t have any of the typical heraldry associated with the Gunners on her gear, and even ex-Gunners kept it as a point of pride. Maybe she was from out west, like NCR or Enclave. It’d explain the firepower and high end gear. 

He pondered the options as she moved closer and closer to the final stretch. She took very little time to clear out the infested warehouse, crushing the ants effortlessly with that bright pink baseball bat. She chose here to take a breather, which wasn’t bad per say- but she was so damn close Gage could taste it. 

Gage tossed the stub of his seventh cig into the ashtray and let out a heavy sigh. She just had to survive the audience, then she’d be toe to toe with Colter. With any luck, she’d take his offer, the Thirst Zapper, and things would go off without a hitch. Nisha and the other bosses could get off Gage’s back and the whole ass park could go back to making obscene amounts of caps. 

That was the dream right?

She shoved herself up, tossing aside the Nuka-Cola she’d been nursing. The bottle rolled away and she dug around in her coat, pulling something out. It looked like a syringe, which could be either a stim or psycho. Gage hoped it was the former. It likely was not, based on the shape he could make out. 

“Aw yeah get your asses in gear she is on the MOVE!” RedEye crowed. Gage leaned back in his seat. “It's time for the home stretch ‘Cotton Candy’! You got what it takes to take on the audience?” The DJ asked. Kincaid looked up at the cameras and flashed a blood thirsty grin. She turned to her eyebot and motioned it forward, her Gauss rifle in hand. 

RedEye drawled on about her violent death at the hands of the audience, but that didn’t seem to deter her as she moved into the first section and planted several large pucks into the heads of a couple of Pack Animals and a Disciple. The DJ teetered off as the three bodies dropped, and Gage felt shivers go up his spine as she stepped over the bodies and laughed such a full body laugh it shook her whole torso. The force of the blasts from her gun tore the Pack Animal bodies apart like they were pieces of wet paper. She charged through Disciples and cut them to pieces with nothing but that big ass Bowie knife she kept in her boot and her bare hands. Her .50 cal tore through Operator flesh like a hot knife slicing through butter, dropping the posh cunts like sandbags. It didn’t matter who it was, she cut them down without mercy. 

Each step brought her closer and closer to Colter, and they came to her so easy that Gage would have sworn she’d run The Gauntlet a thousand times over. The bodies caught in the netting above her were dripping like a macabre rain and the bodies at her feet were splattered like paint. She was brutal and messy, and she enjoyed it. 

Gage did too.

He loved every moment of watching her tear through the ranks. If he could control that, she would be perfect to keep the gangs in line. No one would dare stand up to her, no one would dare stop her. She could keep them afraid too. They wouldn’t stop at Nuka-World either, they’d be able to take over the whole ass Commonwealth, hell, the whole east coast. The possibilities were endless.

She turned to meet a Disciple who thought they could sneak up on her, putting her .50 caliber bullet right between their eyes. She spat on the corpse and walked past, pressing on through grenade bouquets like they were nothing more than cobwebs. As she approached the final cluster, she pulled it from the thread casually. She playfully tossed the grenade in the air before catching it as if it were nothing more than a baseball, before lobbing it under the turret in the next corridor. Gage watched her make herself comfortable, seeming to chat with the eyebot as she waited, until the explosion blasted past her. She lit a cig, eyes half closed as blood dribbled down her face. She took a puff before standing up again and taking long strides to the next section. 

Long strides took her to the next set of raiders. They were nothing but a trio of runts with something to prove. Little did they know, they’d bit off far more than they could chew. All of them took a step back as Kincaid rounded the corner. From Kincaid’s duster came out that massive revolver again, planting two bullets comfortably in the chests of the raiders on either edge of the trio. The final raider found her revolver right under their chin before their head exploded into a shower of blood, gray matter, and bone.  
Gage watched completely enthralled at this point, until a buzzer behind him went off and shook him from his daze. He looked over his shoulder, then back to the camera feed. Shit. He shoved his chair back, grumbling the entire time. He grabbed the red toolbox on his way out of the security office. His steps quickened as Colter’s brash voice filtered through the hallways. 

“Gage!” the Overboss snarled, “Get over here and help me suit up!” 

Gage entered the arena as fast as he could manage, even as Colter sneered at him.  
“Jesus Gage! You move slow as hell, its almost like you WANT another beat down!” Colter laughed and smacked Gage’s upper arm. Gage flinched at the contact and set down the toolbox. He swallowed down the bile that was bubbling up in his throat, his nose wrinkling as he watched the Overboss saunter over to the jury-rigged power armor that loomed in the center of the arena.  
With any luck, the fucker would be dead by sunrise. 

“So what do you think of the vic?” Colter asked as he lit a cigar and watched Gage as he pried open the hatch on the armor. With a metallic groan the hatch swung open.

“You’ll want to go after her with the sledge I think, make a real impression on the rank n’ file,” Gage told him absentmindedly as he worked the security bolts and checked over the power supply. “maybe finish her with the shotgun, good splatter. Keep the gang’s attention ya’know?”  
Gage spoke distractedly, his gaze stuck to the rusted wrench before snapping his attention back to what he was doing with the power supply. Colter hummed and nodded as he tapped the ash off of his cigar. He climbed into the armor and Gage hopped slightly to reach the edge of the hatch, using his body weight to pull it closed. Gage quickly went to work on the security bolts, tightening each one, trapping the Overboss in the hulking suit of metal. 

Colter turned away from Gage as an alarm went off, screeching and pulsing. She’d entered the building, it was time. Gage swore under his breath as the boss pulled away, almost hitting the armor with his wrench in anger. He thought better of it however as he heard Colter coo. 

“Ah,” the Overboss sighed, tilting his head. “Aren’t you a pretty little thing!” 

Gage looked up as Colter took a step towards the glass. He threw his hands out wide, letting out a little laugh. There, just beyond the barrier, stood Kincaid. She stood completely still, her eyes locked on the Overboss in his power armor. 

“Aren’t you something real special?” Colter chirped with a deceptively sweet tone. He almost sounded pleasant and that made Gage’s stomach churn. “I’m half tempted to have Gage gas you and bring you up to Fizztop. I could have so much fun with you there.”

Colter’s laughter made Gage physically ill, so he tried to focus on the waster instead. On Kincaid. 

His eye met hers and Gage couldn’t repress the shiver that clawed its way up his spine. She stared at him with those icy eyes, unblinking and her mouth pulled into a thin line. The eyebot behind her swayed and beeped to get her attention, using it’s little arm to poke her shoulder. Her gaze snapped to Colter and Gage got a shred of satisfaction as the Overboss took a stumbling step back. 

“Gage!” Coulter snarled, sounding almost nervous. “Go turn off that blasted alarm! I want to have a good word with this doll,” 

Gage snapped to attention at the direct order before dipping down and grabbing his tool kit. He muttered an acknowledgement and slipped his wrench inside the metal box as he jogged to the door leading out of the arena. He went to the terminal just past the door, setting his toolbox under it. It took him a moment to log in, but he quickly silenced the blaring alarm. He slid the door shut, activating the mag locks. It was almost time. Raiders from the gangs were already starting to filter in, calling seats and watching as Colter paced back and forth. The Overboss was threatening the scav, telling her exactly how this fight was going to go down. Colter was good at sounding confident, but Gage could tell the Overboss was nervous. None of his usual jibes were even phasing the waster, she just stood there looking disgusted. If there was one thing Colter hated, it was being looked down at. 

“Come on doll,” Colter let out a breathy sigh and a soft chuckle. “Give the Overboss a smile,” he jeered, but she just continued to stare down at him with that judgemental gaze. She was unmoving, completely still. The most the man got out of her was a slight narrowing of her eyes. Not even the rise and fall of her breathing could be seen. 

“You just give me a wee kiss and I’ll think about lettin’ you live,” Colter offered, throwing his arms out wide again. “as my concubine.” he added with uproarious laughter. The crowd that was gathering cackled too, filling the room. The laughing didn’t stop, and Gage found himself clutching the desk the terminal was on tighter and tighter as his world narrowed down. Gage sucked in breath after breath as the howling laughter sent shivers up his spine. It was digging up memories, memories of cold, mocking, evil laughter as Colter’s meaty hands closed around his throat and-

Nope. Just no, Gage was not going to think about that right now. He needed to focus. He needed to keep his focus. On the moment, not two weeks ago. Now. He was in the now, and Colter was angry. His taunts didn’t get the reaction he wanted out of the waster, all he got was a demented smile and a single raised middle finger. 

Now it was her turn to laugh, and how sweet it sounded to Gage’s ears. It shut the Overboss right up as she threw her head back. She raised the other hand and shifted her weight to one side. Her head tilted and her blood soaked pink curls tumbled down her neck.  
“oh ain’t you cute!” she laughed, her voice echoing over the now silent arena. The bosses were starting to file in, and they paused in their tracks. The Overboss was just staring up at her dumbfounded, his eyes wide. “Aw you ain’t got shit to say you chav fuck? Go back to fuckin’ ya cousin and polishin’ your knob!” she said in a mocking version of Colter’s accent. She let out a cackle as his face turned cherry red, and he turned from her and spat. He put on his helmet and growled loudly. 

“Let the ungrateful bitch in Gage!” Colter snarled as he picked up his massive super sledge. Gage couldn’t see the smirk, but he could hear it. “Something tells me I’m gonna REALLY enjoy this,” he let out a growl and Gage swallowed hard. He gave Colter a thumbs up before running back towards the security office. He slid into the office and slammed the door shut.  
This was it. It was just his life on the line, no pressure. Just a perfect stranger of a scav between him and a painful, slow, drawn out death. 

Gage pulled up the security feed and idly chewed on his lip as the feed loaded in. She entered the locker room and Gage made sure the door closed and locked behind her. It trapped her and bot inside, no turning back. There were no cameras in there, so he had to trust she wasn’t going to off herself like the last waster who made it this far.

They still hadn’t cleaned the brains off the walls.

Gage flipped the switch on his microphone and put a cig to his lips before lighting it. He waited a moment before letting the smoke flow out of his nose. It calmed him down a little bit, and he found his hands weren’t shaking so bad. 

“Find the intercom on the wall, I only got a minute!” he waited, letting out an impatient sigh as he tapped his free hand on his thigh. A minute drug on, and then another. Gage licked his lips and tapped the ash off his cig. He took another drag, his nostrils flaring as he stared at the blank screen ahead of him. He blew out the smoke and pulled the microphone closer. “I know you’re fuckin’ in there, Kincaid.” 

“Whats up?” she asked, sounding bubbly and bright. It clawed its way up his spine and he shook his head. It didn’t matter, not really, it had just taken him by surprise was all. He’d honestly had expected her to have a raspier, smokier voice.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, shaking his head and taking another drag.

“This ain’t no time for you to be fuckin’ around, we got work to do!” Gage hissed, his fingers tapping rapidly on his thigh. He heard soft laughter on the other side and he felt his nose wrinkle. “I stashed a red gun in one of the lockers,” Gage leaned back, taking another drag. “Go get it, it's important.” 

He swallowed down his anxiety- what if a raider had found it and took it? What if Colter knew what he was planning, or even worse what the bosses were planning? What if it was gone? She was entirely fucked if the squirt gun was gone.  
“The dink-ass water pistol? With ‘Thirst Zapper’ on the side?” she asked, sounding god awful confused. “I already grabbed it, kinda got sticky fingers,” she trailed off and Gage let out a sigh of relief. 

That stupid little water gun was the key to the entire plan, her chance to kill Colter.

“Yeah, that's the one,” he responded as he took another drag from his cigarette. Kincaid’s screeched through the speaker, startling Gage enough for him to drop his cig and almost fall out of his chair. He growled lowly at the basically new cig on the skeezy, dirty ass, god knows what had been crawling on it floor, letting out a huff before stomping it out. He turned back to the mic, already pulling out a fresh cig from his pack. 

“and how in the everloving FUCK am I going to beat mr. ‘Brit Bangers and Mash In a Tin Can’ with nothing but a fuckin’ dinky ass novelty red Nuka time squirt gun made for snot nosed prewar brats?” she roared, and he could imagine her even going as far as to stomp her foot. “Give me fucking ammo, or a knife, or even a stick! It’d be more helpful then this hunk of junk for Jesus! Mary! Whoever the fuck!” Gage rubbed his face and let out a sigh as he listened to her rant. “You know I only got twenty five more rounds for Pete, ain’t got no batteries left, and fuck I only got twelve more rounds for Tom! He’s a hungry growing boy Mr. Gage!” 

Gage squinted, staring at the blank screen as his cig burned. She was still going, and he was trying to figure out who the fuck was Tom? Pete? The two of them didn’t have time for this, she was wasting precious seconds that could easily end with some raider busting in on Gage and catching him in the middle of betraying the boss. 

“Are you listening cowboy? Or am I gonna be ridin’ this rodeo alone?” Gage pinched his nose as she paused. 

“Listen, it's the perfect weap-”

“Bullshit!” She snarled and Gage took another deep breath. Snapping at her was going to get nothing done beyond getting her killed. He needed her to listen. “This little toy ain’t gonna do shit! You’re gonna get me killed, and when I die I’m gonna come back and get you killed too!” Kincaid’s voice was overlaid with frantic beeping. Gage could feel the migraine building behind his eye. He went to open his mouth to speak, but like she was a psyker she started right back up again.

“When you said ‘interesting offer’, I expected CAPS, WOMEN, POWER! Ain’t that whatcha said there cowboy? That you were gonna set me up for life, not get me killed in the most embarrassing way possible?” 

“Ay!” Gage snapped, and she went quiet. “That TOY is the ticket to win this fuckin’ fight alright? Give me a minute to explain, without interruptions, thank you very much!” Gage sucked in a breath. He heard a huff on the other side, but she stayed quiet. “Now fuckin’ listen!” so much for calm and collected. “Look, I ain’t so big of a dick that I’d leave you with nothing a’ight? There is some .50 caliber ammo that ‘ought to fit your rifle in the medical cabinet in the stripped out bathroom. Should fit one of your rifles, but it ain’t gonna mean shit without the zapper.”

“You made it this far, you obviously got skill, but the fight coming up is rigged, get me?” Gage asked, leaning on his free hand and pausing to take a drag on his cig. 

“No shit Sherlock.”

“Shut the fuck up Watson.” Gage growled, but a small part of him was amused at the literary reference. He looked over his shoulder and made sure the door was still secure before continuing. 

No prying eyes, coast was clear. 

“Look, Colter is in power armor that's all hooked up fancy like to the power grid, it draws on the electricity and makes him nearly invincible. You name it, someone has tried it.” 

“Miniguns?” Kincaid asked, Gage confirming via hum. “Grenades?” again, he hummed to confirm. “Rockets?”

“Yup.”

“Whatda about nukes? Has anyone tried mini-nukes yet?”

“Yup.” Gage let out a huff and she went quiet. He shook his head and sat up straight in his chair, tapping the ash off his cig. “You get what I’m sayin’?” she gave a sound of confirmation so he continued. “So, we get the squirt gun. When that water hits his super charged armor, its circuits are gonna short out. Blam-o,” she couldn’t see it, but he made an explosion motion with his hands. “It’ll kill his defenses, but you’ll only have a short window of time before they recover. Once the grid recharges, you’ll have to hit him again because you won’t be able to touch him.” Gage took another drag and let the smoke flow out of his nose. “You take him out, and I promise you, it’ll be worth every second you spent in the gauntlet.” 

He waited for her reaction, his anxiety skittering up his arms like little bugs. It was cold in his guts, like a ball of ice in the pit of his stomach.  
“Huh, that is pretty clever.” he heard her laugh softly. “You’re one shifty son of a bitch huh? Down right Machiavellian ain’tcha, remind me not to get on your bad side lest you fry me in my own armor.”

Gage frowned and she laughed softly. 

“Alright cowboy, I’ll bite. But if this doesn't work, I’m gonna take you down with me. Violently.” Gage couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. She had no idea, if this didn’t work he had a far worse fate waiting for him. 

“If this don’t work, you won’t be alive to do much, but fair enough I s’pose.” Gage offered with a shrug. He clicked through the commands to open the locker room. “The door is open, see you on the other side Kincaid.” 

“Sit back and watch the show cowboy, it's gonna be a hellova ride.” she quipped and he rolled his eye. 

He pushed himself to his feet and turned away from the computer, until it started beeping insistently at him. He turned back and squinted, looking over the pop up. The arena power grid was in reboot, like someone had managed to shut down one of the generators.

“Did you do that?” Gage asked as he pulled the mic closer. 

“Did what?” she asked, feigning innocence. She had definitely done that.

“One of the generators is knocked out, power to the arena is down by thirty percent. The fuck did you manage that?” he asked, scanning over the menu. She laughed and he tilted his head. 

“I saw a fusion core, and I got sticky fingers so I grabbed it. Tend to grab anything not nailed down.” That’d be a problem, but that was a future Gage problem, not a present Gage one. He could almost imagine her tossing the core up and down like she had with the grenade in the gauntlet.

“A’ight, thats gonna help, but you’ll still need the ‘Zapper.” Gage reminded her, taking a drag. “But its gonna give you a bigger window on that recharge time sure as shit.” A twist of anxiety ripped through his guts and he watched the alert ping that she was through the door and into the holding cell before the arena. He turned off the mic and put his cig out in the ashtray before moving away from the desk. 

His life was in her hands now.

Gage made his way through the halls from the security office, each step feeling like he was walking to his own funeral. It wasn’t going to be no prewar shit either, he was walking to a mass grave with his head up on a pike. As he made his way into the control booth he saw Kincaid waiting in the holding room. She walked like she had never lost a fight in her life, her shoulders squared and her head held high as she observed the raiders in the stands. Her stone like expression turned into a manic grin as she took in the sheer violent frenzy that was building up in the audience. If she lived, she’d fit right in. Colter called out to each of the gangs, one by one, to work them into a froth over the show. 

“DISCIPLES! ARE YOU READY FOR BLOOD!”

The Disciples were snarling and screaming like banshees. Nisha was perched on her warped metal throne, a sneer twisting her mouth into a gruesome mockery of a smile. She shifted in her seat, crossing her legs and tapping her nails on the arm of the seat impatiently. Her people were clad in their dark leathers and metal masks, hitting the walls with their bladed weaponry. Most of the disciples were encrusted or covered in blood. Gage could have sworn Nisha looked his way, but he did his best to keep his gaze off of her. It didn’t stop the shivers crawling up his spine though. 

“PACK! ARE YOU READY FOR THINGS TO GET WILD!?”

The Pack Animals were just about climbing up the metal grating that protected the glass of the arena like fucking apes, howling as they shook the grating. The colorful raiders were clad in animal pelts and shoddy theatre masks, their paint splattered handmade rifles in hand. They were waving the guns around erratically, following their leader’s example by screeching at the top of their lungs. The racket irritated Gage’s growing migraine, and when Mason’s sharp eyes went from Colter to Gage the two locked eyes. A sharp smile stretched across the Pack Alpha’s face and gage looked away while digging around in his pocket for his cigs.

“OPERATORS! ARE YOU READY FOR ME TO NOTCH ANOTHER KILL!?”

Colter was met with half hearted applause. This did nothing to his ego sadly. The Operators, in contrast to the other two groups, were sitting prim, proper, and quiet in the upper stands. The twins Mags and William both sat at an heirloom table, sipping booze and reading their little books as they waited for the inevitable bloodshed. The metal armor they wore glinted in the arena lights, making the Operator’s fancy suits stick out. They looked like old world nobles, gazing down on the riff raff and judging the heathens below.

Gage turned his attention back to Kincaid as he tried to fish a cig out of his almost empty pack. She was working on a weapon check as Colter walked up to the glass that separated them. The eyebot she’d brought with her had that massive duffle bag strapped to it, leaving Kincaid only with her big Gauss rifle, or that was what Gage thought.

Kincaid let her rifle hang from the straps, throwing back her coat and showing the twin revolvers she had holstered on either side of her chest. She pulled them both out, spinning them on her fingers. On her right hand was that massive son of a bitch she had pulled earlier, a black big frame revolver that could blow a hole in any skull no matter how thick. On her left she had a comparatively little thing, six shot and ivory colored. She checked the ammo on both, sliding a bullet into the chamber of the larger revolver. She spun them on her fingers again and holstered them in a smooth motion. With her coat pushed back like that, Gage could see the shotgun on her hip. She pulled it out next, opening it up and making sure it was loaded. She cocked it with a single hand before sliding it back into place, with the same motion picking up the Gauss rifle that had been hanging from its strap. She flicked a switch on the massive thing, and Gage could imagine the hum. One after another, lights flickered on up the entire barrel, she popped a metal puck into the receiver and checked the sight, aiming directly at Colter through the glass. Her mouth pulled into a smile and she ran her tongue over her teeth. 

She closed one eye and raised her gun, popping up the barrel slightly to mimic recoil. “Bang.” She mouthed as she pretended to shoot Colter. 

“And you!” he snarled at her, shifting his grip on the massive super sledge he was holding. “Are you ready to die?” 

The door slid open. 

There was a moment’s pause as the two sized each other up before Colter charged. Kincaid dipped low and rolled between the beast of a man’s legs, twisting mid roll with her revolvers in hand. Two shots bounced off the electrically charged armor, and Kincaid scrambled to get behind cover as Colter turned and brought his sledge down right where she had been. 

Gage had told her that no gun would get through Colter’s power armor, he had told her, and obviously the bitch hadn’t listened! He leaned forward, watching her dodge and weave around Colter’s clumsy attacks. He bit down on the unlit cig in his mouth, his knuckles going white around the railing and his grip tightening with each blow Colter missed. 

Kincaid was running full tilt through the arena, going over and under overturned bumper cars and stacked debris. Every time she got an opening she’d squeeze off a shot or two, just enough to keep the beast of a man focused on her. Colter was frantically running after her, each blow of his sledge hammer knocking away scrap like it was nothing. Even Colter could see it wasn’t working, Kincaid was too fast to be caught with such a comparatively slow weapon. He tossed the sledge away and pulled his shotgun out, taking aim. Kincaid rolled, the blast barely missing her and the buckshot embedding itself into the wall. She was going to die if she kept this up, no one could fuck with the Overboss and live.

Gage lifted his lighter to the crushed cig, trying to light it despite quivering hands. He could feel the cold radiating out of his core, the weight of his future settling on his shoulders. Nisha would probably grab him before he left the arena, right in the dark of the stands. She’d grab him right around the throat, or Savoy would. She’d take one of her serrated knives and bring it from his groin to his collarbone, splittin’ him up the middle and carving him open until his intestines fell out on the floor. He knew what happened then, they’d squirm there, twisting and writhing while he begged Nisha to let him live. He let out a steadying sigh, letting the smoke flow from his lungs. His head was swimming with all the ways Nisha was going to draw out his last moments. He shouldn’t have been dying for a wretched cockroach like Colter, he shouldn’t have-

"Our vic here has given us a new record!” RedEye crowed through the speakers. “Too bad she ain't doing shit all to Colter. Got mad guts though."

“Just! Fucking! Stay! Still!” Colter snarled, reloading his gun. Kincaid stopped, flashed him a wink, and picked up a piece of steel beam. Gage’s eye went wide as she lifted and threw the damn thing like a spear, causing Colter to have to dodge out of the way for once. She took her moment of peace to run to the edge of the arena, clamoring up one of the Nuka-Cola statues and turning towards Colter. He took a step forward and she threw herself off the bottle, landing square on his head and shoulders. 

Without her feet on the ground, the electric shield was next to nothing to her. The sheer weight of her was enough for Colter to stumble back and drop his gun, scrambling to try and remove the waster who was attacking his helmet. She went at the seam with one of her knives, prying at the panels and getting her fingers where they were not supposed to go. Colter let out a blood curdling snarl that made Gage’s blood run cold before a string of curses flowed freely from the Overboss’ mouth. The swearing continued unhindered as he scrambled to grab her. She was like water though, and just kicked his hands away when necessary. She must have grabbed onto something that wasn’t wanting to budge, because she braced both feet against his chest and stretched out, pulling something out as Colter’s balance was severely thrown off. She gave it one more tug and Colter went down like a sack of potatoes, Kincaid rolling and popping back to her feet. She had wires and cabling in hand that she promptly threw at Colter.

The Overboss was struggling to get up, like his helmet was malfunctioning. Kincaid however just walked over to him all casual like, something red spinning on her finger. Colter finally got to his feet, bracing himself on the wall closest to Porter. 

“Fuckin’ cunt! Fuckin’ gonna rip you to shreds!” Colter snarled as he turned. He tilted his head as she raised the little plastic gun and closed one eye. “The fuck is th-”

“Bang,” Kincaid mouthed as the water hit his chest and the overboss convulsed and dropped to his knees. Colter was screaming, full out screaming. Gage leaned forward, his eye wide as Kincaid shifted her weight to her other foot before crouching down. Colter’s convulsions started to die down, though his ragged breathing was heard throughout the arena. Kincaid blew on the tip of the Thirst Zapper as if blowing off smoke as Colter struggled to remove his helmet. 

“The fucking hell? Is that a water gun!?” RedEye asked, standing up in his little booth with his nose practically pressed to the glass. 

Colter slowly got to his feet, Kincaid giving him a little wave as he did. The boss looked burned, his skin steaming in the suit. 

“Porter! You are a dead man!” Colter snarled, his bloodshot eyes locking on Gage. Gage took a step back out of reflex, dropping his lit cig. He felt his entire body tense, but Kincaid quickly stole Colter’s attention away with two quick squirts directly to his face.

“Ay Bangers’ n’ Mash, You ain’t done with me yet.” She called out, standing up. Colter turned to her and she gave him a wink and blew him a kiss before hooking a piece of rebar with her foot and catching it midair with her hand. She threw it like a spear and it was Colter’s turn to dodge. 

“Someone’s mechanic is toast!” RedEye cackled, setting off the raiders in the arena. The howling laughter and shouting was almost too much for Gage and the fear that was crawling up his back, he could feel hands around his throat, slowly constricting his airways until he was practically gasping for breath, eye locked on Colter and Kincaid going back and forth. 

The Overboss had gotten his gun back, but now the eyebot had joined the fray and every time Colter looked like he was going to come close to actually hitting the scav the little robot would zap the Overboss. Finally, done with it’s bullshit, Colter wheeled around and grabbed the thing by the grate in front of its visual sensor. The eyebot let out a shrill shriek, thrashing in his hand. 

Kincaid took her chance and ran directly at the Overboss, climbing up his back like he was a cliffside. Colter let go of the eyebot in favor of trying to get her off again. He spun around, grabbing frantically as she held on for the whole 8 seconds. 

Colter went still as Kincaid hauled herself up on his shoulders, Gauss rifle pointing directly down.

They weren’t even ten feet away from Gage.

“Shit,”

Before the Overboss could finish that thought, the gun charged. The lights down the barrel grew brighter, one by one, until the magnetized metal came rocketing out with a loud bang. Colter’s head exploded into a shower of gore, brains and bone flying as far as the other side of the arena. Kincaid was coated in viscera, but she didn’t even flinch. She popped off a second shot into the hole formerly known as Colter’s neck, as if the double tap was even needed. More gore splattered the arena, completely silencing all of the raiders. Kincaid’s eyes locked on Gage, unblinking, and she kept eye contact as Colter’s weight shifted. Kincaid rode the corpse down, stepping so that when it landed she was standing on his back. 

Still unblinking, still staring in such a way that made Gage feel like she could see into his very soul.


	2. Different Drum

Gage watched for a silent, breathless moment as blood flowed freely from the cavern that was Colter’s chest, staining the arena floor a deep crimson and covering up the very spot his blood had stained only a week earlier.

It was silent, for a beat, then two.

Then it dawned on Gage. Colter was dead. Colter was dead! Porter’s face split into a massive grin as he leaned forward and snatched up the microphone that was hanging in front of him. The words caught in his throat as he went to speak, the joy of his continued miserable existance overwhelming him for just a moment before he remembered he needed to address the bosses and their cronies.

“She killed Colter!” he proclaimed, and finally a murmur ran through the crowd. “You all saw it! We all saw it!” Gage looked back to Kincaid, and their eyes locked. She was watching him, unblinking, her gun balanced on her shoulder and her weight casually thrown onto one foot. She chewed something slowly, bubble gum Gage soon realized, as she blew a bubble and popped it. A shiver went up his spine and he watched her blow another bubble.

Questions were coming at him rapid fire so he had to shake himself out of his stupor. Her mouth was awful distracting, and it didn’t help that everyone was shouting. Gage shook his head, and narrowed his eyes and let out a snarl.

“Look! She’s skilled enough to run the gauntlet, hell she took out swaths of you fucks!” Gage growled and looked over the gathered raiders. It was going to be an uphill battle to get them to accept the new Overboss, but at least the victory was unquestionable. “She was smart enough to take my advice,” Gage turned his glare to each of the bosses in turn. “and if someone could kill that son of a fuckin’ bitch then they have right to the title! She’s what we need!”

“You better know what the hell you’re doing,” Nisha stood, looking down her nose at him. “Porter Gage.”

The use of his name made his skin crawl, the way it came out of her mouth with such malice. He looked away from Nisha, ignoring the thoughts crawling up his spine and the ghost of her knife going up the scab that went right up the middle of his torso.

“She don’t look like much,” Mason said as he stood up, looking Kincaid up and down. “For your sake Gage, I hope I’m wrong.” Mason laughed and Gage shot him a dirty look. “Otherwise it’s gonna be your head on a pike, if Nisha don’t get to you first.”

The thought of The Pack Alpha feeding Gage to the zoo was also a horrible thought that Gage did not want to think about. He was still pretty sure his fate at the hands of Nisha would be worse, but it sure was a close match. Mason was still laughing, his whole entourage following suit like a troop of howler monkeys.

“How about we show our new Overboss some respect!” Gage snapped, but instead of quieting down the gangs just got louder, as raiders are want to do.

“She will get respect, when she EARNS respect.” Mags spoke, cutting through the chaos. Gage looked up at her, his mouth drawn into a thin line. He resisted the urge to flip the Operator boss off, opting instead to continue living.

It was never fucking enough for these bastards. The fuckin’ waster took down a man three times her size in power armor that was charged up with a near impenatrable fucking shield. But that wasn’t enough for these petulant shits. No, not enough, gotta earn that respect still. Like the bitch didn’t just turn Colter into a cavern with a rifle and could do the same to any of them one on one. Shit heads... Fuckers. Bitch ass whores-

Gage was pulled out of his thoughts by Kincaid tapping on the glass.

“You look like you’re gonna take a shit.” She said with a shrug as the raiders started to filter out of the stands. Gage squinted at her and she just flashed him a wide smile.

“I bet they’re great at parties!” she added, jabbing her thumb towards Mags and William as they rode the elevator down from their private booth. Her robot beeped in agreement and she laughed, giving it a little fist bump against its utility arm.

Gage let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and a chuckle escaped him as he leaned against the railing.

“I’m sure you got a lot of questions, but this ain’t the place to answer them,” Gage motioned upwards, towards one of the security cameras. “I ain’t the only one with access, and frankly-” Gage’s eye darted over to where there were still raiders lingering in the stands, “The walls here got ears, you get what I’m sayin’?”

“I’m sniffin’ what you’re steppin’ in,” Kincaid told him as she playfully shoved her eyebot. It was aggressively beeping and waving its arm at him, but he ignored it. It wasn’t what was important. What was important was that she was talking again.

“But I still got questions, and I ain’t doin’ shit until they’re answered Mr. Gage.”

“Fair enough,” Gage relented, pushing off the railing. “Now I’m gonna trust you-”

“Probably a bad idea,” She quipped, and honestly the first thing that went through Gage’s head was ‘that’s my line’ and not anxiety over the open admission.

“So don’t shoot me,” Gage finished as he logged into the arena terminal. He looked up and she lifted her hands with a sharp smile, no weapons were to be seen but Gage knew better. He was going out on a limb letting her out- if she blamed him she’d have the opportunity to take him out. He’d seen her Gauntlet run, She could kill him 3 ways with his own armor.

Gage took a step back from the terminal as the door slid open. She took a step forward all heavy steps and covered in gore, and Gage’s first instinct was to flash his palms and prove that he wasn’t a threat. She was slender under that thick trench coat, but she moved with purpose and with heavy footsteps. She looked him over up and down, her brow twitching as her gaze settled on his face.

“See, worked like a charm,” Gage asserted with a small smile, he still kept his body language open though. She must have found him satisfactory, because the blow he had expected to come never did.

“Thanks to you; not a bad plan there cowboy.” she flashed a smile and Gage felt himself swallow at the sharp teeth in her mouth. “So you’ve decided I’m Overboss, butcha ain’t even bought me dinner, fo’ shame.” she admonished, stepping into his personal space. They were practically nose to nose, and Gage could feel his heart jump up into his throat.

Gage took an uncomfortable step back, and the waster did not follow thank god. He pulled his pack of cigs out of his pocket and started to tap one out, frowning as he realized the damn thing was empty. Kincaid made a noise and he looked up to see her holding out a cigarette with a sympathetic look. She motioned for him to take it, and after a moment’s hesitation he acquiesced. He lit it and took a deep drag, Kincaid leaning on her bot and watching him do so a little too closely.

“Let’s go to your new quarters up on Fizztop, the Overboss’ seat of power.” Gage suggested while jabbing his thumb up towards the exit. “We can talk there and keep the conversatin’ to ourselves.” he stepped aside and Kincaid narrowed her eyes slightly. Gage paused, swallowing down a burst of anxiety. “After you, Boss.”

She let out a little hum and stepped past him, her bot followed close. As Gage attempted to follow the thing twisted in mid air and held out a blowtorch like it was a prison shiv, threatening him with an aggressive trill. Kincaid let out a soft little laugh as she looked over her shoulder.

“Don’t worry about her, she just has opinions,” Kincaid asserted despite the bot’s objections. Gage raised an eyebrow and felt his nose scrunch up, watching how the thing followed Kincaid around. He followed at a safe distance until they were closer to the doors. The group pushed past lingering raiders. The sea of bodies parted partly because of Gage, and partly because of the eyebot waving around a blowtorch. Gage surged forward to make sure he opened the doors for Kincaid, throwing them open to the full glory of Nuka-Town USA. He could already hear the whispers from the rank and file, but right now, pleasing Kincaid was more important than what any of them thought.

Kincaid took a deep breath of the fresh air outside, letting out a happy little sigh. Gage had to admit the cool night air felt good after being cramped up in the security office for hours. Kincaid surveyed the courtyard of the arena, looking over the tables set up next to trader food carts. Gage took the lead and motioned for her to follow.

“Your quarters are this way, up on that mountain,” he pointed towards Fizztop, where an old world building was built into the side. “Used to be a hotel n’ fancy restaurant, you’ll be stayin’ in the patio where you can see everything that’s now yours.”

“The hell was this place?” Kincaid asked as the trio made their way along the paths that wound between new stands and guard posts and old world attractions. Gage picked his way through to the cleanest of the paths, making sure Kincaid was following close behind. Couldn’t have the boss stepping in Pack mess afterall. He made a non-commital noise, but after taking a look at Kincaid realized she’d need more than that.

“Some sorta theme park,” He explained with a shrug as they passed a massive statue. It was of an anthropomorphized bottle cap named Cappy, and a Nuka-Cola bottle named Bottle. Kincaid paused to stare for a moment, and Gage couldn’t blame her. The ugly mascots of the park looked like monsters after 200 years of acid rain and a year of restless raiders. Gage opened up the gate to the Fizztop courtyard and waited for Kincaid to follow.

The courtyard visibly disgusted her, and Gage sympathised. It was filled to the brim with trash and debris, with corpses sprinkled about for some visual flavor. That was courtesy of the Disciples, and the courtyard smelled foul for it. In the center there was an oil slick covered pond, it reflected all the little lights the raiders had strung up, looking like a shimmering sea. Kincaid paused and stared at it, her eyes wide as Gage led her over to a makeshift lift. He pushed the button to call it down, turning to the new boss. He took a drag on his cig as she quietly spoke to her bot, which was beeping anxiously. The lift docked and the three stepped on, letting the creaking machinery hoist them into the air with a lurch and a groan.

“Holy shit,” Kincaid gasped as she turned around. Gage leaned on the side and looked over, raising an eyebrow. Nuka-Town was lit below like a canopy of stars as raiders milled about doing their business. The little city was thriving, despite Colter’s best efforts. “It's beautiful,” Kincaid sighed, leaning on her hand. Gage gave her a hum in agreement.

“Ain’t she? And this is only one park,” Gage told her as the lift docked on the patio. She turned and he watched her visibly recoil. A soft stream of chuckles escaped him as he made his way to the bar. He recoiled the first time he saw how Colter had decorated the patio. It was filled with mannequins in a variety of positions, most lewd. It was fucking creepy, but Gage had gotten used to it. Had to, Colter decorated his room with them too, and when the Overboss says you have a mannequin looming over you when you sleep, you have a fuckin’ creepy thing watch you sleep.

“Oh I fuckin’ hate that.” Kincaid muttered as she followed Gage into the patio.

“Well, good news is the digs are yours now. You can do whatever you want with them.” Gage told her, turning and leaning against the bar that curled around the center of the patio. “Helluva view though,” He took another deep drag and watched as Kincaid settled in beside him. “Toss the creepy shits off the patio if you want, I’ll pay you caps if you hit any raiders.”

“You mean that?” Kincaid asked, her tone striking Gage as dangerous. He looked over and raised an eyebrow. Her bot made its way to one of the corners with plugs, its buzzing settling into a quiet hum as it plugged itself in and powered down. Good. it would be just the two of them talkin’ business.  
“Everything you see here is now yours boss,” Gage told her, deciding to ignore her excitement to scam him outta caps. “The park, the patio, Nuka-World-”

“You really wanted that fucker dead, huh?” Kincaid asked as she grabbed one of Colter’s work rags and started wiping gore off her face. Gage scoffed and didn’t bother to mask the sneer that found its way onto his face.

“Dead? Out of the way? Didn’t fuckin’ matter. Bastard was poison for the whole operation. As long it was a success, I don’t give a fuck.” Gage’s voice rumbled out deep from his chest, a lot of repressed rage bubbling up. That son of a bitch had done him dirty, almost got him killed more than once, and very nearly did kill him at least once... more than once.

Gage hated that piece of shit.

“So what's the con?” Kincaid asked as she stripped out of her coat. Her arms were pure wiry muscle, and Gage found himself staring. He sucked in a breath through his teeth and turned his gaze to the town.

“This place is a fuckin’ goldmine,” Gage started as he took another drag. “And it's a fortress. Manage this shit right, and you could change the entire fuckin’ east coast.”

“Like Vegas for the west?” Kincaid asked as she undid buckles on her metal armor. The shell fell away, and she tossed it aside. She was wearing a yellow tank top under it all, a splash of color among the void.

“Exactly.” Gage told her with a gesture of his cig. “Now that Colter is gone, we have found ourselves with a vacancy in the Overboss department,” Gage told her as she twisted and crawled over the bar. He watched with a raised eyebrow as she dug around in the cabinet just behind her. “And you just got the job.”

“If it's story time, I need some booze. Y’drink whisky? Or are ya more of a Vodka kinda comrade?” Kincaid asked, her legs kicking like a school child with a crush as she lay across the countertop. Gage looked away and took another long drag on his cig.

“I don’t drink.”

“Aww, not even for something like Colter’s timely demise?” she asked, twisting and holding up a brown bottle. Gage made a face. If any time was worth getting inebriated, this would be it. But he also needed his wits about him. She set two little shot glasses on the counter as she settled back onto her stool. She poured two shots and shoved one next to him. He looked at it, considering for a moment.

“Well alright, just one, and just because you annihilated that fucker clean outta this life and the next.” Gage grumbled, picking up the shot. Kincaid leaned forward and hooked her arm around his, a small smile on her face. Gage recoiled out of habit, but not enough to spill his shot or actually escape.

“Bottoms up, Mr. Gage.” They both knocked back their shots and Gage grimaced. Kincaid released him and poured herself another shot. “Alright, lay it on me, what kinda mess have I walked into here?”

It took him the better part of an hour to explain the ins and outs of the plan, the parks, and the gangs. He went over a brief history with Colter, how and why he picked the brute to be the Overboss, and where Colter went terribly terribly wrong. Half way through they had to scrounge up another pack of cigs from one of the host podiums, but other than that and her drinking, Gage found she was a good listener.

“So, why didn’t you just cap his ass in his sleep and proclaim yourself the boss?” Kincaid asked as she let her hair down from its bun. She worked a rag through it, removing most of the viscera.

“Folks already blame me for putin’ Colter up, imagine how they’d react to me proclaimin’ myself boss. Had to be clean. Public. Not me.” Gage told her, shaking his head. “Besides, leadin’ outright ain’t my style. My talents are more suited to helpin’ the new Overboss get all this shit together, y’get me?” he asked, and she nodded and tossed the towel aside. She turned to him, eyeing him up and down before suddenly invading his personal space again. Gage almost fell off his stool backwards, his eye wide as she got close enough for him to feel her hot breath on his face.

Her breath smelled of booze, and the fumes alone could have burned down the whole town, once it was done eviscerating his eye.

“What sort of talents would you say you have, Gage?” she asked all deep voiced. Gage’s brows knit together and he swallowed around his anxiety. She pulled back slightly and pushed another shot towards him, her eyes half closed. She’d done this a couple of times while he’d been explaining, and Gage wagered he’d have a better chance of getting her to accept the gig if he played along. So despite all his principles, this was his fourth shot since they’d gotten to Fizztop. He took the shot glass gingerly and knocked it back before setting it upside down on the counter.

“Other than being a good shot and havin’ a foul mouth?” he asked, trying to mask his discomfort with humor. She chuckled softly and it did something to his insides. “I know these gangs, I’ve worked with them, hell, I’ve worked against them,” Gage continued, tapping ash of his current cig. “And I’ve been running with raiders for more then two decades, I know how they think, how they’re gonna act. That experience will save your ass,”

“That all you gonna save, Mr. Gage?” Kincaid asked with a little giggle, leaning too far forward on her seat. Gage snorted and reached over and grabbed the bottle she’d been nursing all night. She sat back up straight, her face going dead serious. “You drive a good bargain there cowboy, caps n’ power n’ women n’ all that,” she looked away, running her fingers through her curls. “But I ain’t so sure I want it, got a taste back n’ Vegas and let me tell you, I don’t think I’m cut out to be a raider- more about polite society-”

“Polite society?” Gage’s voice cracked and she looked over at him. “After whatcha did to Harv you’re gonna talk polite society?” Gage asked, his eyebrows knitting together. “After whatcha did to a whole swath of rank n’ file? Whatcha did to Colter? Are y’crazy or just some sorta hypocrite?”

“Now thats not nice, callin’ a lady a hypocrite.” she chastised, and he snorted and shook his head. “No, I usually do the things polite society ain’t like to admit gotta happen- and your little Harv lied to me, so he had to face justice.”

“Weird idea of justice there boss, last I checked that’s a bit closer to what dirty old raiders like me would do.” Gage pointed out, and she made a face. “Nah boss, you were made to be here,” Gage gestured with his cig before taking a drag. “You ain’t fittin’ into no polite society, you’re messy, like me, like the bosses. The sheep don’t like messy, it's complicated and makes their shitty little settler brains hurt,” Gage growled, narrowing his eye and staring at nothing in particular. “They’ll use you up and spit you out with nothing left, trust me, I’ve been in the game for longer than a lotta wasters been alive,” Gage looked at her. “You belong with folks like me, I can tell. You belong free and takin’ what you want, when you want, however you want. And if you need convincing I can pull up your whole ass Gauntlet run.”

“Not needed,” Kincaid told him with a wave of her hand. “And I don’t think I’m gonna take the gig-”

Nope, nope not good. She couldn’t NOT take the job, Gage needed her on board. He panicked slightly, turning to her.

“But I ain’t even told you the benefits!” He insisted, and she looked over with narrowed eyes and stony expression. “You get a percentage of all the scrap and caps the gangs bring in, and with three gangs that is quite a few raids, tolls, tributes, the whole thing.” Gage told her, motioning with his hands. “Plus, you can just be alone if you want, use this place like a little nest egg, somethin’ to fall back on, rest and relax in fuckin’ style,”

“Ain’t that what got Colter killed?” Kincaid asked with a tilt of her head, and a cheeky smile stretching those full lips of hers.

“Nah, he decided to cash in on the whole high life early without doin’ any of the actual work,” Gage dismissed with a wave of his hand. “Decided to fuckin’ play with power armor instead of doin’ the legwork to actually secure his territory.”

“And you assume I’d be different,”

“Yes, you ain’t like Colter!” Gage told her, scooting to the edge of his seat. “You asked questions! You’ve spoke to me like a person from the start! You’ve actually listened to the shit I’ve got to say,”

“That’s a bar that is underground Mr. Gage,” Kincaid pointed out, and it wasn’t like she was wrong. Colter literally buried the bar six feet under as far as running the parks was concerned. The only thing he’d gotten right was the intimidation and violence.

“Thats why it’d be a damn easy gig,” Gage told her with a shake of his head. “A nice little nest egg you can come back to, live fuckin’ the high life. Hell, once we’re established you could just collect your percentage from a place like Diamond City’s Upper Stands and just come back once a month to spook the rank n’ file back into line-”

“You’ve mentioned I get a percent, how much?” Kincaid asked, leaning on her knee and focusing entirely on Gage.

“Well,” Gage started, his momentum sputtering out. “Colter was collectin’ five-”

“Bullshit, I wasn’t born this morning Mr. Raider, he was too much an’ ass to be pulling so little,”

“You are correct,” Gage told her with a motion of his finger. “He thought he was pullin’ twenty five, but I do the books.” Gage pointed out, and Kincaid laughed softly.

“So how much would I be pulling, Mr. Gage?” she asked, leaning forward again. “Eighteen would be a lot more reasonable, considering I’d have to clean up all o’ Colter’s mess if I took the job,”

“You’d also get me killed, I could pull you as much as eight,” Gage offered, and Kincaid tilted her head.

“Go for fifteen and I might consider accepting,” Kincaid told him, reaching over and laying her hand on his knee. He squinted at her, his nose wrinkling up as a scowl found its way onto his lips.

“Go for fifteen, and Mags uses my blood for ink and my intestines become Nisha’s skip rope,” he pointed out, and she laughed again. “Nine, at most.”

“Ten, then, and I’ll think about taking the job.” she countered, moving back into his personal space. He made a noise and a face and she just smiled. This was going to be a problem if she kept this shit up.

“A’ight, but you’d have to be damn proactive to earn that,” Gage admitted, “but if you’ll take the job, I’ll go to bat for ten.”

She pulled back and he got the sneaking suspicion that she did that to manipulate him. She wiggled her little ass on her seat and preened like some sorta bird of paradise. Gage looked out the window and felt his stomach sink a little bit. There was a rim of pink along the mountains, meaning it was earlier in the morning then he’d seen in a very long time.  
“The sunrise is awful pretty,” Kincaid sighed all dreamy like, her eyelashes fluttering. She was pretty, but Gage wasn’t going to admit that to her face. He looked away and frowned, anxiety crawling back up his spine.

“I wantcha to know, I got a lot riding on this. If you don’t work out,” he swallowed down bile. “If you don’t work out, Nisha is gonna skin me alive... and if they catch you leaving?” Gage looked up at her and felt his brows knit together. “And they will catch you, They’ll rip you apart and use you to decorate the market stall selling pieces of me before they burn the whole park to the ground.”

“Aw come on, you didn’t have to harsh my buzz like that.” Kincaid complained, playfully shoving at Gage’s shoulder.

“So you know, I got a vested interest in you doin’ well, I ain’t just shittin’ you-” Gage looked away again because of the way she was lookin’ at him. “I wanna keep my head where it’s supposed to be,” Gage muttered. It was a bit of a longshot, but hey, it didn’t hurt to try using her empathy.

“Raiders are so gross,” Kincaid complained, shaking out her curls and hopping up off her seat. “I want to go to bed, where am I sleeping?” she asked, looking over to Gage and scratching her ass. For someone as feminine as she was, she did not act in any such way that his nan would have called ‘lady like’.

Gage stared at her for a moment while his brain tried to process her request. He just lifted his hand and pointed towards Colter’s massive bed, and Kincaid’s gaze followed.

“Oho, sleepin’ in style I see.” she giggled as she lifted a leg and started to tug off her boots. “Where do you sleep?”

“In there, I guess?” Gage shrugged and pointed towards the door that led to the restaurant proper. “I tend to sleep wherever I’m needed, sometimes Colter would make me sleep behind the bar to keep pissed off raiders off him while he bedded their-”

“No more details,” Kincaid interrupted, her face contorted into a disgusted scowl. “You’re gonna sleep in a bed. You got a bed right?” she asked, and he nodded. “Good. Go to bed.”

“A’ight boss,” he muttered, standing up. “Lemme turn off the lift-”

“Why?” Kincaid asked as she perked up, Gage looking over. She had entirely too much energy for someone up at the ass crack of the day.

“Because, if I don’t, anyone can come on up n’ kill you in your sleep. And you’re sleepin’ right above the Disciples. Those crazy fucks who are all stabby and sadistic?” he told her, making a stabbing motion. Her face scrunched up again and he rolled his eye as he went over to the lift’s generator. He unplugged everything before closing the hatch. By the time he stood up, Kincaid had made her way up onto the deck that raised Colter’s bed off the patio, and she was all wrapped up in the comforter. She was breathing real even, her eyes closed. Gage watched her for a moment more in the morning light before quietly padding his way over to the double doors. He pulled them open. The left door swung easily due to being broken, and Gage made a note to have someone come up and fix it for the boss. 

He made his way down the dark hall, his head spinning and a migraine blooming behind his eyes. He kicked off his boots just before the stairs that led to the little area of the Grille he’d claimed for himself. He sat down on his bed and ran his hands down his face, sucking in breath and breath.

He almost died that day. If she hadn’t killed Colter, the old boss would have thrown him off Fizztop, or worse. Whatever Nisha had planned for him would have paled in comparison to what Colter would have done for sabotaging his power armor. He had already beat Gage within an inch of his life for merely suggesting to take a park to appease the gangs, and Gage had barely managed to recover from that. The very thought made the memory of Colter’s hand wrapped around his throat bubble up and Gage found himself unable to breathe, his eye going wide as his own hands went to his throat and rubbed against the aged bruising. 

In the silent, dark, damp depths of Fizztop, Gage let himself break down. It had only been two weeks at most since Colter had tried to turn him into a stain on the floor of the arena, and only a week since he woke up barely able to breathe with a tube down his throat tucked away into a corner of Russel’s recording studio. 

He and Colter had been close, once upon a time. Felt like decades, even if the two had only known each other for a few years at most. He’d had such high hopes for the fucking brute. 

The reality of it all weighed heavy on Gage, and for the first time, in a very long time, the raider let himself weep. His shoulders shook as he sucked in shaking half breaths that barely filled his lungs. His heart was trying to beat out of his chest while his throat tried it’s damned best to close off. All of the dark thoughts that had been clawing at his spine bubbled up and crawled their way out of his throat. After a few minutes of allowing himself to feel the feelings he had been packing down for weeks, the day’s events began to catch up with him, the exhaustion hitting him like a super sledge. The sobs turned into quiet, shuddering breaths as he palmed the tears away from his one good eye. 

A full body shiver grasped him, shaking him out of his reverie. He scratched at his scalp, dragging his hands down his face. He finally peeled out of his tank top, grimacing at the sticky sweat that covered him. He fell heavily onto the stained mattress, not bothering to pull his quilt up. He sucked in a shaky breath and his eye shut- 

And he was out. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, a little bit different then it was last time but when Chapter 1 hit 15k I realized I needed to split it up. 
> 
> Things are gonna go a little bit differently this time, I think, now I got a better hold on Caid from the start and I know more about what Colter did to Gage. Beyond that, I got some new experiences myself with nasty neglectful relationships, so just more insight all over. 
> 
> Enjoy, I'm hoping to post 5k a week until I'm caught back up with where we were- and then finish out the fic and move to the next arc.
> 
> oh! and if you were in the middle of reading the old one, message me on discord (Jibblets#6969) and I can send u the backup I have, I just couldn't have it on AO3 while posting the new draft.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a rewrite of my first fic I ever wrote, which I wrote 5k on every week for a year. It was then sabotaged by my EX, who deleted all the WIPS and future chapters that hadn't been posted. I'm taking this opportunity to rewrite and edit the series, and start back on my 5k a week bullshit now with everything I learned from the first round.
> 
> Enjoy the Kincaid and Gage shenanigans as the Courier Six navigates the hellscape that is Nuka-World.


End file.
